So What Happens Now?
As soon as Spike had mentioned his own fatigue, I took a quick look around and realized that we were all looking more than a little weary. More than unerstandably, none of us was at our best, physically or mentally, and some rest would almost certainly be the right thing to do.
Spike departed with Cordelia.
And that was as much consideration of that particular situation that I was prepared to give at that moment.
And just like that, I was alone with Fred, which I hadn't been since before we'd found out about Gunn. We had been talking then, about... well, about when she'd died, when we'd lost her, and about Illyria. After which, of course, we were thrown right into believing Illyria had murdered Gunn. Just a typical day at the Hyperion Hotel, I thought morbidly.
Of course, we hadn't gotten to what might be just as important a topic-- meaningly, the state of things immediately prior to Fred's shuffling off this particular mortal coil. I wasn't nearly fool enough to bring the subject up right away, or perhaps I shouldn't even be the one to do it at all, I thought. And until the question arose again, I couldn't be sure whether or not anything had changed.
Certainly, I didn't think anything had changed, at least on my end. When I looked at her, it was the same as it always had been; she still stirred the same feelings. Didn't she?
God only knew, though, how she felt.
And I wasn't about to ask.
No, this was definitely the time to resort to my preferred methods of longing, meaningful glances and quiet adoration. Definitely.
"So," I began weakly, "I suppose getting some rest might be a good idea."
((Open to Fred.))
Spike departed with Cordelia.
And that was as much consideration of that particular situation that I was prepared to give at that moment.
And just like that, I was alone with Fred, which I hadn't been since before we'd found out about Gunn. We had been talking then, about... well, about when she'd died, when we'd lost her, and about Illyria. After which, of course, we were thrown right into believing Illyria had murdered Gunn. Just a typical day at the Hyperion Hotel, I thought morbidly.
Of course, we hadn't gotten to what might be just as important a topic-- meaningly, the state of things immediately prior to Fred's shuffling off this particular mortal coil. I wasn't nearly fool enough to bring the subject up right away, or perhaps I shouldn't even be the one to do it at all, I thought. And until the question arose again, I couldn't be sure whether or not anything had changed.
Certainly, I didn't think anything had changed, at least on my end. When I looked at her, it was the same as it always had been; she still stirred the same feelings. Didn't she?
God only knew, though, how she felt.
And I wasn't about to ask.
No, this was definitely the time to resort to my preferred methods of longing, meaningful glances and quiet adoration. Definitely.
"So," I began weakly, "I suppose getting some rest might be a good idea."
((Open to Fred.))